


The Monster In My Heart

by Ryoko21



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: Bestiality, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Explicit Sexual Content, Knotting, M/M, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Violence, Werewolf Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 03:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2093391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryoko21/pseuds/Ryoko21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roman… is not sure this is a good idea. But he’s pretty sure he doesn’t care. He’s sitting, naked, in the middle of the woods, under the light of the full moon. His car is a half-mile hike away. And there’s a predator out here that has his scent. He knows there is. He planned it that way. </p>
<p>For the BDSM fandom Summer Challenge:<br/>Hemlock Grove, Roman/Peter, There's a way to keep the wolf in check...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Monster In My Heart

                Roman… is not sure this is a good idea. But he’s pretty sure he doesn’t care.

                He’s sitting, naked, in the middle of the woods, under the light of the full moon. His car is a half-mile hike away. And there’s a predator out here that has his scent. He knows there is. He planned it that way.

                The thing is… Roman feels very little. Less and less, actually. And most of what he can feel, he only feels when Peter is around.

                “The wolf wants three things,” Peter had told him once. “Food, blood, and sex. If you’ve got one, you can entertain the wolf for most of the night.”

                “So what do you give it?” Roman had asked, and lit a cigarette.

                “Food,” Peter had said, and his smirk said, “You can’t seriously be asking that.”

                “So, what? You grab it a bag of burgers?”

                “No. No, I, uh… Well, I trap a deer before the moon, and I injure it. The wolf follows the blood trail and… well,” he shrugged, “dinner.”

                “Nice,” Roman mocked.

                “Hey, it’s better than what my grandfather…” Peter hesitated.

                “What?”

                “Nothing.”

                “No, what? Seriously, what did he do?” Roman asked and handed Peter his cigarette. Peter took a puff.

                “He used to tie a bitch dog out in the yard before the full moon. Entertained the wolf all night.”

                “Really? Just a dog?”

                “Yeah. Wolf’ll fuck just about anything on the full moon.”

                “Where’d he get the dog?” Roman had asked. Peter had just shrugged and given him a look that said, “Gypsy, remember?” and it was obvious where he’d gotten the dog. Roman had laughed, and Peter had joined. And then the conversation had turned to other things.

                It isn’t until weeks later, when Peter had been giving him a blow-job in his car, that Roman thinks about the conversation again. Roman is sitting in the front seat, his door opened, his body turned to the side so that his feet are on the ground outside the door. Peter is kneeling on the ground between his legs, deep throating his cock, one of Roman’s hands fisted in his hair.

Peter is excellent at this. He goes at it with a diligence that is a testament to his work ethic and his lack of morals. Apparently, gypsies have very loose sexual standards. Peter’s been with more men and women than… well, than Roman.

Roman comes with groan and doesn’t give Peter any warning when he shoots his load down the back of Peter’s throat. It doesn’t matter. Peter catches it like a professional and swallows it all, and doesn’t even flinch at the taste. He licks his lips when he’d done and stands up. His cock is half hard. Roman wants to offer to help him with it, wants to take him back to the house and have sex with him in Roman’s own posh bed on satin sheets. But that’s not the agreement they have. So Peter walks around to the other side of the car and gets in, ignoring the fading erection in his pants. And Roman hands him a few thousand dollars’ worth of prescription pills that he found lying around his company’s labs.

And Roman wonders, as he starts the car and heads toward Peter’s trailer, if he could manage to keep Peter. If he could satisfy the wolf, the man would be his as well. And that idea, of tying the monster and the man to him, haunts him for weeks to come. Through the first full moon, Roman resists. During the second, he makes a badly thought-out dash into the woods, but Peter is already too far gone. The third full moon, Roman leaves his jacket at Peter’s house before the transformation so the wolf can get his scent. Then he drives himself to the area that Peter is known to hunt and waits.

                The sound of a twig snapping brings Roman back. He’s naked and shivering slightly, his knees aching from the hard, cold ground. He thinks about heading back to the warmth and safety of his car, but he can feel that the predator is out there. He knows that if he leaves now, it’ll be on him in seconds. And not the way he wants.

The wolf approaches. Long and sleek and black, its muscles ripple under deceptively soft fur. Roman has no delusions about this. The creature in front of him is only very slightly Peter. The rest is instinct and monster. There is a chance, a very real chance, that the beast will rip out his throat. Roman isn’t sure he would mind so much.

                The wolf sniffs him warily, its mouth open and showing rows of teeth. Roman sits quietly and tries to keep his breathing steady and even. The wolf must smell something familiar, because it approaches. It sniffs Roman’s face and licks his cheek. Roman knows that this beast has eaten its own skin, hair, teeth, fingernails, and eyeballs within the last two hours. He also knows what it wants from him. Roman forces his mouth open and struggles to keep it open as the wolf licks him there, its tongue lapping the insides of his mouth. It tastes like rotting meat, and Roman gags. Tears spring to his eyes at the taste of it, but he holds himself still. When the wolf is satisfied with his taste, it pulls back.

                Roman closes his mouth and swallows, feeling the wolf saliva run down his throat. He gags again. The wolf sits in front of him, its head cocked to the side like its pondering him. Roman knows that the beast is just waiting. He knows that the wolf doesn’t have much patience. As soon as his stomach stops roiling, he forces himself to his knees.

                Despite how close those teeth have just been to his throat, Roman knows that this is the dangerous part. One wrong move, and the wolf could decide that Roman is food or blood. Roman can only hope that the shred of Peter that’s still in there will help convince the wolf that he is better as sex. And even then, it’s still dangerous.

                Roman is barely on his knees before the wolf is behind him, sniffing him, sticking its cold nose between his legs. It can smell the lubricant he used on himself earlier, but there’s no help for that. Trying this dry would be more dangerous and stupid than even Roman is willing to go. The wolf licks Roman’s testicles after a moment of investigation, and Roman has to keep himself from flinching. The tongue is cold and wet and slimy and almost entirely unlike Peter’s. It’s only the knowledge of just how close those teeth are to his sensitive areas that keeps Roman still.

                The wolf mounts, and it’s an awkward, ungainly thing. Roman has seen dogs fuck. He knows that it’s crude and humiliating. But knowing it and being involved in it are two different things, and he blushes to the roots of his hair as the wolf awkwardly stands behind him, its front paws on his back and its back legs just behind his. It scrabbles to get high enough on him, and he feels the pointed press of its cock at the same time he feels the bite of its nails on his back. Its claws get a grip on his skin and the wolf uses it for leverage, thrusting its pointed cock into his hole with a burning pain that makes Roman cry out. Roman doesn’t expect pleasure, and he doesn’t receive any. This is about feeling something, about feeling anything. Roman can’t complain that all he feels is pain.

The wolf doesn’t care. It pistons its hips and Roman fights to stay still, stay quiet. He sobs a little and bites the inside of his cheek. If he’d thought it would get better after the wolf mounts, he was sorely mistaken. Once the wolf is inside, instinct takes over and the wolf’s sole focus is reaching its completion as quickly as possible. Roman’s watched dogs fuck. He knows it won’t be long.

He doesn’t remember that dogs knot. When the wolf shoves its cock so deeply in him that it almost throws him over, he thinks it’s done. When the wolf doesn’t get off and when the pain intensifies instead of abating, he panics. He makes a noise of distress and tries to push himself away, but a warning growl from the wolf stills him. The pain is still increasing, and Roman feels something drip down his leg that he’s pretty sure isn’t come. He reaches a shaking hand out and it comes back covered in blood.

It feels like forever that the wolf makes Roman kneel there. Then the knot starts abating, Roman doesn’t even notice until the wolf climbs off his back and suddenly he’s freezing again, with the wolf’s heat and fur gone.

Roman turns slowly to look at the wolf. Its tongue is lolling, those vicious teeth on display again. It looks pleased with itself, if that’s an emotion a wolf can have. Its cock is still dangling between its legs, slim and pink and covered in Roman’s blood. Roman has the sudden urge to lick it, to lick his own blood off the animal’s cock.

“Turn back,” Roman demands in a shaking voice. It’s the first thing he’s said all night. The wolf sneers at him, as if to say, “Who are you to make demands of me?” but then it twists and contorts and Peter is climbing out of the wreckage.

“What the fuck did you do?” he snarls, but Roman can here fear under the angry tone. Roman smiles.

“I missed you,” he admits cheekily, but it’s hard to be cheeky with blood running down your thighs.

“And you couldn’t wait half a fucking day to see me!”

Roman can’t think of an answer, so he leans forward and licks Peter’s cock, tasting his own blood on Peter’s skin. Peter growls, but his fingers stroke through Roman’s hair gently as Roman laps at his cock and balls.

“You’re fucking messed up,” Peter tells him, but the tone is gentle. “Turn around,” Peter demands, and Roman obeys. Roman thinks Peter might fuck him again, but then Peter’s tongue is in his ass, lapping away the blood, and Roman’s pretty happy about that too. Peter holds Roman’s cheeks apart and licks the crack of his ass, then points his tongue and sticks it in Roman’s hole. There’s some pain, but Roman is a surprisingly fast healer. And the pain reminds him that he’s still human. Roman is still on his knees, and when Peter finishes lapping the blood from Roman’s ass, he moves seamlessly to lapping at his testicles, and then lies on his back and slides between Roman’s thighs.

He takes Roman’s flaccid cock in his mouth, and it’s a strange angle for Roman, but Peter sucks hard enough that it doesn’t matter. Soon, Roman’s cock is twitching and growing, and not long after that he’s shooting his seed into Peter’s mouth. They kiss then, and it’s their first kiss. It’s made all the more perfect by the fact that Roman can taste his own seed and blood in Peter’s mouth.

They curl on the ground of the forest until the moon has nearly set. Peter is like a living furnace, and Roman barely feels the chill in the air. It’s been a long time since Roman has felt this peaceful, or since Peter has felt this calm on a full moon. The rouse before daybreak, walk the half a mile back to where Roman’s car is, change into the clothes that Roman has brought for both of them.

When they go back to Peter’s house, his mother and his cousin are waiting. Roman thinks that they smile a little too readily, that somehow they probably know what has happened, if not exactly how. Roman doesn’t like it, but Peter smiles at them and accepts some good-natured teasing, and it’s okay. Roman envies the easy comradery in Peter’s family. Roman thinks about how nice it would be just to stay here, to bring Shelley and stay here and get away from Olivia. He knows that it’s a hopeless dream, but it’s all he has.

He thinks that here, perhaps, the monster in him and the monster in Peter can play, and be content.


End file.
